Canyon Moon: The Making of the 2019 Album, Fine Line {H.S}

Come on, Eileen

*warning, sexual content ahead*

June 6th 2019

{ANNIE}

Some people watch the news. Some people like to go outside and watch. How I cope with storms, however, is baking cookies and drinking a hefty glass of wine.

Living in a beachtown, we're used to storms, but this one was like a bad breakup, long and destructive. We got two days of relief, with just enough window of opportunity to celebrate the 4th of June fireworks. But, just when we thought we were out of the woods, she came back just as quickly as she went. Great news for us, we were supposed to start recording Harry's new song yesterday, but now, the weatherman is advising to stay inside, which puts us even further behind schedule.

At around 10 pm, the palm trees screech against my back door as I take another sizable gulp of wine. Adam used to scare me when I was little and tell me that the rain was gonna pick up our house and flush it into the ocean, so since then, I've never been a fan. Plus, storms and small houses surrounded by trees aren't exactly a great combination. Thus, I bake cookies. At least if I die, I'll have something good to eat.

As I stick my cookies in the oven, I could swear I hear a knock at the door. Must be the wind, I tell myself.

It comes again, but this time with a voice, "Uh, Annie? D'you think you could let me in?"

I head to the door to find out who's on the other side. I open the door to find a soaking wet Harry. "What are doing here?"

"I came to check if you were okay. I remember you saying you didn't like storms."

"I'm fine-wait, how did you get here?"

"I drove." He said, pointing to his car, which I almost couldn't see in my driveway through all the rain. "Uh, could I come in? I'm getting a bit wet."

"Right, yeah, sorry." I say, flustered at his random act of kindness. I thought he forgot about my storm phobia, I certainly didn't expect him to come check on me. I also wonder why he decided to come to my house instead of just calling me.

"Mmm, what's that smell? It's amazing." He remarks.

"I'm making cookies." I say, "If you want, I can stick your sweatshirt in the dryer for a sec."

"Sure, that would be great." He pulls off his sweatshirt and part of his shirt comes with it, revealing a few tattoos on his torso and I couldn't help but stare. As I look away to head to the dryer, I'm suddenly very aware that we're both in this house alone and I wish I was wearing something cuter than the extra large USC t-shirt and old sweatpants I currently have on. I can hear Tommy's voice nagging me to dress to impress, even if you have nowhere to go.

We stand awkwardly in my living room for a moment until he breaks the silence, "Well, uh, I just wanted to come check on you and make sure you're okay. And now that I've done that, I guess I'll be going."

"Well, I can't let you do that."

"Why not?"

"Have you seen outside lately? It's a mess and I'm afraid if you leave, you might crash and die and I can't have that on my conscience right now. I'm really stressed about your album." I explain, playfully and he laughs.

"Fair enough. I'll stay until it lets up."

"So, uh, can I get you anything? I'm drinking wine, but I have water, coffee, and...well, that's it." I don't know why I'm freaking out. We've hung out alone together before, but last time, we almost kissed. We haven't talked about it since, though, and I'm assuming he probably forgot.